“Yes, as soon as we can arrange to get conveyances for our goods. We have about twenty miles further to go before we are really at home.” “I reckon that’s about the distance. I suppose you’ll want to rest up a little, though I don’t suppose you are as tuckered out as some of the folks are that come down on the broadhorns or in wagons. They get pretty sick of it sometimes. Going to Haller’s, John? It’s about the only place that’s half decent, and none too good for ladies at that.” “We shall have to go there, I suppose,” said John in reply. “Are you putting up there, Neal?” “Yes, while I am in town. I just got over yesterday, and am going right back. I reckon I might as well hang on to your train. It won’t do any harm to have two or three of us along.” “No signs of Indians?” John spoke up quickly. “No-o, not around here, but it’s always well to be sociable when you have any distance to go with ladies. When a fellow has only his own skin to take care of he doesn’t have to be so particular.” “That’s so,” returned John, “and if any of the boys are going our way I’d be glad to have them join us.” “How soon do you start?” “As soon as I can get the goods loaded. Those lazy little Mexicans will be as long as they can loading the stuff; you may be sure of that. I’d like to get off to-morrow, if it’s possible.” “We’ll make it possible,” said Neal. “Us boys will tickle up those Greasers so they’ll step lively.” They had now reached the long low house which served as an inn, and as Alison looked around upon the homely, dingy furnishings which were none too clean, her heart sank within her. “Will it all look like this?” she asked wistfully. “Bless you, no,” said Neal. “Why, some of our people have as pretty places as you want to see. To be sure the houses ain’t much on the outside, but inside, there’s a power of fine things. More than one has brought his piano and books and pictures along with him, and though you may find some eating out of wooden trenchers and using horn spoons, others will set you out fine china and silver. It’s about as much of a mix up as you found on the steamboat, you’ll find. Our hotels ain’t to say choice.” “But where we are our own housekeepers,” said Christine brightly, “we can have it as spick and span as we choose. Don’t get discouraged, Allie, before we really get there.” “No, it’s too early in the game to throw up your hand,” said Neal. “I’m not homesick,” Alison protested; yet, just then, with the remembrance of Aunt Brown’s neat orderly home and the familiar faces she had left behind, there was mingled a slight feeling of regret at having exchanged quiet ease for this wild place. Christine, however, had no regrets. To her the end of the morrow’s long ride meant the meeting towards which her thoughts had tended during many months. She watched her brother and his friend depart and stood long by the window seeing nothing but the new home in the prairie, hearing nothing but Stephen’s voice again calling her name.